


Through Dragonfire

by arrenkae



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Protective Thorin, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 11:44:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3289151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arrenkae/pseuds/arrenkae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the deleted Laketown scene in DoS, which was cut for exceeding the gay subtext threshold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through Dragonfire

A crowd of Laketown citizens surrounded the dwarves. Only moments before they had been cheering but now their gazes were wary.

"Who here can vouch for him?" said Bard, "Who can vouch for his character?"

A long moment passed and the crowd began to shift and a murmur of dissent ran through them like a cold breeze. Their enthusiasm threatened to turn like the tide. Thorin looked helpless. Staring at him, Bilbo felt the words bubbling within him. He could not stay silent.

"I will," he said. The whispers of the crowd fell and now his voice was left to hang alone in the silence. He swallowed, and continued.

"I can vouch for his character. He is... he is a true leader. He may be stubborn at times, but he is loyal to a fault and his bravery is unmatched. I can say that I trust him and I am... quite fond of him. He is the best person I know. I will gladly follow him to the mountain and through dragonfire."

Bilbo risked a glance at Thorin as he said this. The look that Thorin gave him then made the rest of the speech trail away in his mind. He knew the weight his words had, the feelings that lingered under them that he couldn't find voice to, and he wasn't sure if what he felt was terror or excitement.

And then that moment was over. The atmosphere shifted.

Someone cried: "Then let him take back Erebor!" People were clapping and cheering. The noise crested over them in waves, and the crowd moved, flowing towards the hall. He moved with them and was dragged along by the energy in the air. What was fear became excitement. Perhaps it was more an excuse for a party than anything else. It felt like most of Laketown's population was crammed inside that hall. The dark stained wood of the walls and floor groaned under the weight of food and the thunder of dancing feet. 

There was the smell - at last! - of cooking food. Bilbo realized how sharp his hunger was. He couldn't recall the last time he had eaten anything approaching a proper Shire meal. The entire company was lead to a trestle table, with the Master of Laketown at its head. Vast plates of food lay before them. Golden baked vegetables dripping in oil and herbs, roast waterfowl and crispy-skinned fish flaking at the edges. Oven-warm rolls and flagons of beer almost as big as his head. His mouth watered.

"Come, sit by me, Master Baggins," Thorin called, beckoning him, and he could only follow. He found himself plopped down between Thorin on one side and Balin on the other. For the next hour all his energy was focused on the food in front of him. Conversation and beer flowed freely, and all thoughts of dragons were banished from his mind. He felt, at last, that he was one of them. One of the company.

The revelries reached a high. Somewhere in the middle of his enormous flagon of beer, he found himself dancing on the tables, arm in arm with Fili and Kili. They were laughing and trying desperately to keep time with the music. People were clapping and shouting encouragement. He caught Thorin's eye for a brief second, and beamed at him, and was rewarded with an answering smile.

That tiny distraction was enough. Even when he lost his footing and slipped from the table and went crashing onto the floor, he was still laughing. Everything seemed uproariously funny. He didn't feel pain at all. It couldn't reach him here in this golden haze of good cheer.

Thorin was bent over him in a second and supporting him with an arm around his shoulders.

"Are you all right, Master Baggins? Are you hurt? Look at me now."

There was an urgency to his tone and of course Bilbo could not help but oblige Thorin. He looked up at the dwarf-king, and was startled by the blueness of his eyes. _Like sapphires,_ he thought.

"Are you hurt?"

Bilbo shook himself out of the moment. He swatted at Thorin. "Oh, stop fretting!" he said. "I'll be fine. Honestly. You're like a nursemaid!"

"Aye! You make a nice little nursemaid, uncle!" Fili called out.

"Maybe you should kiss it better!" piped up Kili.

Thorin growled and lobbed a couple of potatoes at their heads. They ducked. "Get off, you two!" he said with mock-anger. "Scoundrels, the both of you! You wouldn't dare test me sober!"

"You're no fun sober, uncle!"

Thorin's laughter was light and affectionate. Bilbo could not recall a time where he was so happy and at ease around the comapny - except, perhaps, for Bag End. He realized then all of a sudden how close Thorin still was as he bent over him protectively. The light glinted on the silver beads nestled within the dark braids of his hair. He swallowed reflexively. It was rather warm in this room with all these people about. Perhaps it was the beer getting to his head.

Thorin turned away from his nephews, and held out a hand to Bilbo with a softening expression. "Are you quite all right, Bilbo?" he asked again. He took Thorin's hand on the pretense of being helped to his feet. Privately Bilbo delighted in the firm warmth of his grip. His hands were calloused and rough in contrast to Bilbo's own, which were barely scuffed from his adventuring.

"I'm fine," he said, trying to be polite, though Thorin was still holding his hand long after propriety allowed. "No harm done."

"Perhaps you should get some fresh air." A smile was still lingering on Thorin's face. He still had not let go of his hand. Bilbo had some idea then of what might be, and a part of him urged himself to decline. Say no, it's all too much risk. Leave it behind as nothing but the thread of a possibility. But he felt he was ready for one more risk.

"You're right. Yes. I think I should like that."

And he followed Thorin through the crowd and outside to the privacy of the balcony. The sounds of the revelries were muffled out here as if coming from miles away. Their breaths condensed and mingled in the cold night air. Before them was a view of Laketown. The city lay serene under the cloudless night sky. Rows of shingled roofs receded down to the water, lined with silver light. The disc of the moon lay trembling in the reflection and the stars were individual pinpricks of light like diamonds scattered on dark cloth.

"It's beautiful," Bilbo mused. Then he glanced aside and noticed that Thorin was watching him. That heated expression from before was back.

"That was a fine speech you gave earlier. Most flattering."

"Someone other than the dwarves had to vouch for your character."

"Did you mean it?" Thorin asked with an earnest look. "Did you mean what you said?"

He found he could not look away and he could not lie to Thorin.

"Yes. Of course I did. You're the best person I know."

"You seek to flatter me with unwarranted praise," said Thorin. He smiled and then glanced aside with an expression that was almost coy. Bilbo could scarcely believe it. _Is he blushing?_

"I only told the truth. _My_ truth, at least. I hope you didn't not mind my speech?"

"I greatly admired it. There is much I have come to admire about you, Bilbo Baggins. You have surprised me."

"How?" he asked. There was a little tremor in his voice as he said it because Thorin had moved even closer so that he was almost touching. Bilbo could feel the warmth of his body.

"You have saved us all," Thorin said. "Including myself. On multiple occasions. Not through brute strength, but a fine mind and a clever tongue."

"I was only doing what a friend would do. What anyone would do, I hope," Bilbo stammered.

"But you have great qualities, my friend," said Thorin. And the word 'friend' as he laid claim to it sounded a touch ironic. "Qualities which you do not seem to see."

"I really don't-"

Thorin raised a hand and touched it lightly to Bilbo's lips to quiet him.

"It is my turn for silver speeches. Listen to me. You are brave, Bilbo, the bravest among us. Such courage in such a tiny heart! I confess, I did not believe you had such nobility within you - and for that I am sorry."

Bilbo could feel the blush filling him from head to toe. The cold of the night was gone. He felt quite aware of the distance between them that seemed as taut as a drawn bowstring.

"Goodness, I - I don't merit such compliments Thorin, really I don't..."

"Truly, you do," he replied, putting a hand on Bilbo's shoulder. The weight of it was heavy and the rings on his fingers glinted in the reflected firelight from the windows.

"Your worth is far above gold. Above all the gold in Erebor. And I would have everyone see it. Especially you, Bilbo. You must see how priceless you are."

His tone was gentle and pleading and Bilbo hardly knew what to say in response to such a speech. His head was still swimming with alcohol and compliments.

"You... you are drunk, Thorin," he mumbled. "Perhaps you would regret saying such things sober."

Thorin grasped his upper arms and looked intently at him.

"But I would not, Bilbo! I- I may not have such a... a gift with charm as you do... But I would have you see your value. I would have everyone see. I would have you crowned in gold and jewels with a ring on every finger. I would gift you the mithril of the mountain, when it is over. And none of it would approach your value to me."

Bilbo's mouth went dry. Somewhere during that speech, Thorin's hands had moved upwards to cup his face. His own pulse sounded in his ears like the roaring of the ocean. He could no longer escape the weight in Thorin's gaze.

"Thorin I... I do not need such gifts."

For a moment, the expression in Thorin's face fell, and he looked so wounded that Bilbo grasped his hands in desperation.

"No! Wait! Listen. I'm not like you, I'm just from a simple home, in the Shire. Which is not to say that gifts wouldn't be welcome, in the spirit they are offered, but, but that is to say-" He realized he was babbling and shut his mouth abruptly, then began again.

"You are enough, Thorin. That is all I could possibly want."

Thorin beamed at him. His mouth parted for a moment, as if he was not quite sure what to say. Then he bent close and kissed him.

Everything was so warm and fuzzy in that moment. He felt as though they were drinking each other in. Thorin's mouth was soft and wet and the pressure of his body close enough to warm him. There was the tickle of his beard against his cheek, and the dark hair that fell like a curtain so that there was only the two of them, for a moment.

And Bilbo kissed back, drinking deeper, and finding to his surprise that he _wanted_ desperately with a kind of need he had only ever ascribed to people like Thorin, who went out and conquered and got things done. So he too decied to take what he wanted, responding in kind. He dared to twine his hands in Thorin's hair and exulted in the feel of it. Then he tugged Thorin down closer, eliciting a low groan from him. He bit at his lower lip greedy with want.

Thorin drew back with a small startled noise.

"Sorry!" Bilbo said. "Was that - was that not okay?" He looked on the verge of speaking a few times, and then he managed to say:

"Unexpected - certainly! You are constantly defying expectations! But not unwanted."

And his answering smile was brimming with affection. They surged towards each other, this time with an intuitive readiness, sensing what was wanted and needed. They lost themselves for a while in embrace. There was the remarkable softness of Thorin's mouth on his and the unexpected tenderness of the rough hands there resting gently against his neck. And then those hands began to explore, moving lower until they found the curve of his backside.

He gasped in surprise.

"What's the matter?"

"Here? Really? Remember where you are!"

"Why not here?" Thorin said in a low tone that was only half-teasing. "Why not now?"

"You're drunk, Thorin," said Bilbo in exasperation. _And I'm drunk, too,_ he realized through the fog. Thorin's expression changed to a frown.

"Do you - do you not wish this? Have I been too hasty?"

"No, no!" Bilbo said. He did not know when this situation would arise again. He did not know how long this atmosphere of contentment would last. Perhaps at a later time Thorin wouldn't speak of it again. And there was a dragon looming over them.

He moved forward again to kiss Thorin's cheek in a soft gesture.

"Perhaps somewhere more comfortable."

Thorin's smile was gentle.

"Then we will find somewhere more comfortable. Come along."

And he took Bilbo's hand, and led him back into the crowded hall. He found himself blinking in the sudden rush of light and warmth and noise. His whole body was alight with nervous energy. He could still barely process the words that had passed between them. Only that this was happening, now, and he wanted it more than he could remember wanting anything else. A small, self-conscious part of him was aware of how he must look, with flushed cheeks and ruffled hair and clothes, clasping Thorin's hand as if he was lost. But that disapproving part of him was quickly suppressed. He could deal with social embarassment in the morning. Right now, there was only Thorin, and the promise of excitement.

They made their way through cheering revellers and dancing dwarves and people who wanted to stop Thorin and talk to him, until at long last they broke out of the firelight and chatter and out into the darkened hall. In an instant, Thorin had pinned him to the wall, and was kissing his neck with a hunger. And as thoroughly as he was enjoying it, he was also aware of how public this was.

"Honestly, Thorin, can't you wait a few minutes, someone might be coming-"

Sure enough, someone was. He gave a little gasp and separated abruptly from Thorin moments before Dwalin rounded the corner carrying a sloshing tankard of ale.

The dwarf paused to nod cheerfully at them, first at Thorin, then at Bilbo.

"Cheers, laddie. Thorin."

Then, as he stomped up the stairs and reached the top, he called down: "Don't overexert yourselves, we've got some riding ahead of us."

"That was uncalled for!" Thorin roared back, blushing furiously.

Dwalin laughed as he walked away. Bilbo nearly wished he would die of embarassment, but there was other stuff he wished to do first _before_ dying. Thorin was chuckling to himself. He put an arm around Bilbo's shoulders. "Come along! We must enjoy yourselves while we can."

He followed Thorin up the stairs, and along the creaking hallway. He stumbled a little as he went. He was still unused to the rise-and-fall movements of the Laketown buildings and had to keep tugging at Thorin's jacket for balance. At last, they fell through the door to Thorin's quarters. There was some fumbling at the lock until Thorin at last managed it.

The room was one of the finer places in in Laketown. It was one of the few luxuries they could offer to a king. The floor was covered in antique tapestries and carpets and the walls were lit with gold candelabras. In the centre of the room was an enormous four-poster bed in dark wood, with a quilt of red and gold thread and delicate beadwork. Bilbo plopped down on the bed, still feeling giddy.

"Gosh, there's so much room in here," he said in a daze, "So much room. It's so soft. Come and feel how soft it is, Thorin."

"I intend to."

There was a clunk as Thorin removed his heavy wrist braces and shrugged out of his robe and chainmail. His heavy boots thudded to the floor. Bilbo struggled out of his jacket and plucked ineffectually at the buttons on his waistcoat. They seemed to multiply in his vision. Soon there was a creak and the mattress dipped as Thorin flopped down beside him, dressed in his blue shirt and breeches of simple material. For a while they lay there as the room spun softly around them.

At last, Thorin said: "You're right, it is soft. I could go to sleep here."

Bilbo began to chuckle again. He couldn't stop himself.

"What is so funny, Master Burglar?" Thorin asked, turning his head to look at him with another of those fond smiles.

"I just - it's so - it's so scandalous!"

"Indeed?" said Thorin drily.

"No, no, you don't understand! They'd all have a conniption! Everyone at home in the Shire, all the - the Bolgers, and the Proudfeet, and the blasted Sackville- Bagginses - what I'd give to see their faces!"

"Scandalous? This?"

"Oh, yes!" He grinned. "Absolutely! Lying in bed with a dwarven prince, they'd never stop talking about it."

"Your people sound curious indeed if they'd object to the sight of us lazing around and talking," said Thorin, in an amused tone.

"Well, the thing is-" Bilbo began, but he never could remember what he'd been meaning to say next, because Thorin all of a sudden rolled over him in one smooth motion so that he was close above Bilbo and pressed against him in a way that made his intentions very clear.

"Perhaps we should give them something actually worth gossiping about," he said.

Bilbo looked back up at him with wide eyes and a heart beating faster. He was aware once again that this was finally a thing that was actually happening.

"Yes. That sounds... agreeable..."

Thorin kissed him, a slow kiss as if they had all the time in the world, with the promise of many more such times to come. And Bilbo found himself kissing back and growing more and more urgent. Broad, deft fingers moved to the buttons on his waistcoat and undid them one by one. Bare palms pressed against his belly with only the soft cotton of his shirt separating them from the skin beneath. He shivered and pressed up into the touch. The waistcoat lay open. Bilbo sat up and Thorin moved with him as if reading his intentions and the scrap of material slithered to the floor.

Next was the silk tie at his neck, now utterly useless and ridiculous an item on an adventure - but he liked having some semblance of being a proper Baggins, even now, even here. No matter how much Tookish blood was currently racing through him. He held his breath as Thorin leaned in closer, as if to kiss his neck, and instead took the tie in his teeth and tugged at it and let it fall to the floor. His neck felt bare but the room was stifling and warm. They kissed some more and lost themselves in it until Thorin shifted against him and his arousal pressed more insistently against his thigh. Bilbo shivered and moved his hand towards the delicate metal fastenings at Thorin's breeches. But his hand was caught and pulled away.

"Patience, one thing at a time."

Bilbo gave a low whine. He was embarassed at his neediness but he couldn't help himself. It had been too long. He wanted Thorin. If he was being honest with himself, he'd wanted Thorin for a while, now. He wanted a lot of things and there didn't seem to be enough time for them all.

Thorin bent low over him and his beard scratched at the soft skin of his neck as he pressed wet kisses to the hollow of his throat and his jawline. Rough hands began undoing the buttons of his shirt with excrutiating slowness, until they slid past the veil of material to touch bare skin at last. Bilbo hissed sharply.

"Thorin, please. Stop teasing!"

"Since you asked so nicely."

The shirt was tugged off his shoulders and dropped away and Bilbo sat half-bare before him. He felt all of a sudden self-conscious before the dwarf king. Until now, the slight warm buzz of alcohol and merriment had made him bold but now in this state of half-nakedness all his insecurities crowded the room like flies. He glanced away.

"Look, I - I know I'm not much to look at, really, I'm not... I understand if you don't want-"

But he was soon rendered silent again as Thorin removed his own shirt. He tugged it over his head and tossed it onto the floor along with the rest of their clothes.

"There," he said. "Now we're even."

Bilbo stared at him and delighted in the fact that he finally _could_ stare as much as he wanted. Thorin was lean and well-muscled. There was a pattern of dark hair along his chest and forearms. Scars covered his body. Some small cuts, others long white gashes against the warm hue of his skin. Bilbo couldn't help but reach out a put out a hand to touch. He ran his fingers lightly across Thorin's skin and felt him shiver beneath the contact. He felt the muscle in his throat jump as he swallowed and it struck him then that Thorin, too, was actually nervous under Bilbo's scrutiny. As if he had some reason to be.

"Is this all right?"

"It is more than all right," Thorin replied. " _You_ are more than all right, Bilbo."

Now Thorin reached for him and traced his arms and chest and hips.

"I have wanted you for a while now. Surely you know that."

"Well, I didn't want to get my hopes up..."

"You have no idea, do you?" said Thorin wonderingly. "You are such a small thing, such a pretty thing. Such soft, pale skin, such golden hair. So unspoiled. I feared this journey would break you, but it's only made you stronger. How could anyone not want you?"

Thorin's hands drifted to his belly, which he was still self-conscious about, though his soft edges had grown a bit leaner in all the weeks of adventuring. He blushed.

"You flatter me, Thorin."

"I do not. But I will admit, I'm not saying such things out of charity."

There was a humorous smile playing about his lips again.

"Oh? What are your ulterior motives?"

"It was quite distracting having to walk behind you. You have driven me mad. I'm glad we wear so many layers, otherwise my want for you would have been obvious much earlier on."

His pulse quickened as Thorin's hand brushed lower to the erection that was already pushing against the fabric of his breeches.

"You're quite the distraction yourself."

"I hope you know," Thorin murmured against his ear, "That I intend to claim you. Quite thoroughly."

Those fingers began to undo the buttons at a torturous pace.

"In-indeed?" He was trying to sound serious but it came out as more of a squeak.

"Indeed," Thorin echoed, pushing his breeches down.

Bilbo struggled out of them and kicked them off. He was aware now that he was completely naked, with a half-naked Thorin Oakenshield gazing at him.

"And that would involve what, exactly?" he asked.

"Whatever it is you wish," Thorin replied. "Ask, and I'll give it to you."

He removed his own breeches and left the puddled on the floor. He stepped out of them unabashed and unafraid.

"I am at your service."

His gaze was now fixed on Thorin's cock. It was fully erect and flushed in colour. The sight of it was a shock to him because he couldn't quite believe that it was _he_ who had caused it. Looking back up to Thorin's face, he could see a mixture of amusement and barely restrained desire in his eyes.

"Is everything to your liking, Master Burglar?"

"Oh, _yes_ ," he breathed, and almost fell on Thorin in a desperate kiss.

He could no longer control his hands. They wandered everywhere, across the warm taut muscles of Thorin's body, along his thighs, tugged at his hair and neck. His tongue delved greedily into the warmth of Thorin's mouth. And Thorin responded in kind, gently stroking along his arms, caressing his backside and the curve of his spine, nipping gently at his ear. Soon he found that they had rolled over so that he sat astride Thorin with a leg on either side of his hips and their arousal between them. Bilbo broke away from the kiss panting for air.

"I hardly know what I want," he panted. "Honestly, I never thought we'd get this far. I just want you."

Thorin caressed his face lightly. "Have you ever been with someone?"

He flushed. "I don't have much experience. There was one time... but mostly I'm by myself. I have tried touching myself, but it isn't the same."

Thorin sighed appreciatively.

"Now that would be a sight to see. I wish I could watch you do it to yourself."

Bilbo was almost shocked at the forwardness of his desire, but then he recalled that he was sitting naked on top of him and there was really no room for propriety left.

"You still could, you know," he said.

"What?"

"You could watch me."

He felt silly even suggesting the idea, but Thorin smiled.

"Please."

"Do you have something... oil...?"

Thorin reached over and began to rummage in his pockets. From where he was sitting, Bilbo could see the muscles in Thorin's back and shoulders and the rounded curve of his backside.

"Were you planning for this?" Bilbo teased.

"Hoping," Thorin admitted. "I hardly planned for it. I didn't think you would look twice at me."

"I'm looking at you right now. It's a good view."

Thorin glanced back over his shoulder and smiled.

The small vial was soon uncorked and used between them. He slicked his fingers while sitting astride Thorin and all the while he was rubbing himself languidly against him. The friction of bare skin against skin made it more urgent. He shivered and reached down between his legs and further back, teasing in small circles at his entrance. Thorin watched him and groaned.

"That's good. Very good. You're doing well."

With hesitance, he began to push a finger in slowly and bit his lip at the stretch of it. But soon he accomodated. He had done this countless times before in his own privacy and comfort, but it was an entire other matter having Thorin below him, watching him with a look of rapture on his face. Doing this himself, he quickly found the spot somewhere deep inside that made him tense. A ripple of pleasure ran through him and his back arched with the shock of it. It seemed a thousand times more magnified with Thorin's eyes on him. He moaned aloud; unable to suppress it.

Soon all reservations vanished and his body relaxed. He began to move in earnest. He was caught between the pleasurable burn of his own fingers and the friction of his cock pressed against Thorin's. He was aware only of the blooming pleasure and Thorin's eyes on him as powerful as if it were his own fingers inside him. In his desperation he began to push down against Thorin more and more and the pulse built to a tempo in his veins.

"I want - " Bilbo began, but he cut off with a groan. He could hardly speak with the want of it.

"What is it?" Thorin panted. "Anything."

"I want you, inside -"

Thorin kissed his shoulder and then drew away, pausing for a moment to look at him. They hovered there for a long moment, with Bilbo sitting above him, flushed and open and no longer self-conscious.

"I want this, too," said Thorin. "Very much. But are you sure? I am... bigger than you. You are such a small thing, I would not want to hurt you-"

"Oh, stop fretting," Bilbo replied, and he kissed Thorin again until they were both breathless and had to resurface again for air. He reached down and found with his hands where Thorin's cock lay between them. He closed his fingers around it. It was heavy and warm. Thorin gasped and his eyes slid closed.

"Quickly then - you torture me, Bilbo, any more of this teasing and I will be spent too soon," Thorin babbled.

He guided himself onto Thorin and sank down with as much speed as caution would allow. At first he gritted his teeth at the feel of it. Thorin hadn't been wrong, it was bigger than what he was used to. He took a few slow breaths, and pushed past his resistance until he was fully seated against the warmth of Thorin's body. It was a strange sensation to be so stretched and full. Strange, but not an unpleasant sort of pain.

He let out a ragged breath. "There..."

Thorin rested his hands on the flanks of his thighs and stroked in gentle motions.

"I should never have doubted you."

Thorin's words of praise and the look of admiration in his eyes made him bolder.

He began to move. It was slow and cautious at first. Thorin didn't stir beneath him and it must have taken an enormous amount of self-control to stay so still. Each movement against him produced an exquisite friction that was both pain and pleasure. And then, at last, he found the same angle from earlier. He shut his eyes and gasped at the rush of it.  
Thorin's broad hands grasped his hips. He could feel the softness of lips against his and the rough scratch of beard as he kissed him.

"All right?" He sounded slightly amused at Bilbo's reaction.

Bilbo struggled to find the words. He shifted down against the hardness inside him and that only brought on another burst of sensation. A low moan escaped his lips.

"I take it that means it's good."

He gave a small laugh. "Yes - ah! - more than good... You can move, you know, I'm not made of porcelain-"

"Thank Mahal," Thorin said, though it came out more as a low growl in his ear. He shifted upwards and they moved in unison. He found himself growing less and less controlled. Looseness spread in his limbs and all other sensations faded away. Each thrust was sloppy and fast.

He gave an experimental roll of his hips, and that must have been the right thing to do, because Thorin gave a low and ragged moan. All of a sudden he was lifted up so that he found himself sitting in Thorin's lap with his legs wrapped around his waist.

"Oh! Thorin!" he gasped in surprise.

"I find this way is more enjoyable," Thorin murmured in his ear.

With each movement upwards, he came down again on Thorin's cock and the sensation was glorious. It drew such cries from him, but he could no longer feel the slightest embarassment. Even Thorin's self-control was breaking now. He drove upwards with desperation and his hands on his hips gripped like iron.

They moved in unison now. Bilbo clung to Thorin's shoulders and let himself be taken away with the feeling of it.

There was a tickle of Thorin's beard as his lips touched his ear.

"You're so good, Bilbo... You're doing so well."

Bilbo shuddered at the feeling of fingers drifting against the line of his back. He rocked backwards against Thorin.

"I- I can't," he gasped, "I'm so close. Please.  _Thorin_."

Those fingers wandered to the tips of his ears. Bilbo shivered. Thorin was watching his face for every sign of enjoyment. 

"Was that good?" he asked.

Bilbo could only bite his lip and nod.

In response, Thorin leaned forwards and ran his tongue along the edge of Bilbo's ear, before biting down gently on the tip. That was more than enough. His hips stuttered their rhythm as he moved against Thorin's cock. He cried aloud as he came.

He sank down against Thorin with his hands looped around his neck and his face nestled into his shoulder. Thorin continued to chase his own end. His hips moved desperately now and Bilbo could see from the way his eyes slid shut that he was close.

"I didn't expect you to be so loud," Thorin panted in his ear. "Anyone could hear us..."

"Good," Bilbo said, "I hope they know I'm yours."

At that, Thorin gave a low moan. He gave a few rough thrusts and then his hips stilled as he came with a gasp. Bilbo watched him and was fascinated to see his eyes closed in pleasure and his head tilted back to bare his neck.

They both leaned against each other. Bilbo rested his chin against Thorin's shoulder and closed his eyes. His whole body felt as if it was buzzing and electric. It took a long while for them to get their breath back. The sensation faded and was replaced by a deep exhaustion.

He could still feel Thorin nuzzling against his ear and his hands played soft circles in his hair. They lay curled up against the pillows.

"I don't know why we didn't do this earlier," Bilbo said.

He could feel the reverberations as Thorin chuckled.

"I don't know, either. We must have both been mad. Think of all the time we could have spent..."

"We wouldn't have had time on the road," Bilbo replied.

"Oh, there are many creative ways..."

"You'll have to show me then."

"I intend to."

Bilbo yawned. He was looking forward to it, but not right now. Now he could already feel himself falling asleep. A glance up at Thorin and he saw that his eyes were half-lidded with tiredness.

"Can I stay?" Bilbo asked.

Thorin snorted in indignation. "Of _course_ you can. You can stay as long as you want."

Bilbo wasn't sure how long he meant, exactly, but that was a discussion they could have for another time. He sighed and shut his eyes. They fell asleep together there in the firelit room.

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd, so if you spot any errors or stuff that needs tweaking, please let me know!


End file.
